


‘i’m a little bit unholy 🌸’

by xjes



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 04:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xjes/pseuds/xjes
Summary: Tom doesn’t know a lot about his new neighbour ‘2b’. However, he can confirm she moved in to the townhouse on a Tuesday afternoon, that she works in the evenings till early hours of the morning and that she has really loud headboard rocking sex.| pairing: tom holland x reader | warnings: mature language, alcohol consumption, sexual content, general fuckgirl behaviour, sugar baby/daddy relationships, stripping | au: producer!tom |





	1. no angel

**Th-thump, Th-thump, Th-thump.**

There it was again. The constant bumping sound leaving 2b’s flat above.

**Thump, thump, thump, th-thump.**

It would have been somewhat acceptable considering 2b had only recently moved into the London townhouse. So, as you can imagine this meant the re-arranging of furniture and endless hours spent trying to build Ikea furniture. _Fun_. However, the racket which flooded the hallways after midnight came with moans of pleasure and the odd profanity suggesting that the not-so-innocent pounding, was in fact someone getting pounded.

Tom was sprawled out on the settee, eyes on the television but not really taking it in. He untucked his hand from his waistband and reached out to the side table feeling for his phone.

**2am.**

_For fuck sake. How much longer were they planning on going at it? _Anyone else may have indulged in some self-gratification with all the pornographic noises available. God, Tom wanted to, but he refrained. It was wrong, right? It would most definitely be inappropriate and a huge invasion of 2b’s privacy to say the least (not that they were leaving much to the imagination). Tom pushed forward leaning his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his tired eyes. Four more hours until his alarm was due to start screaming, so things weren’t looking great.

And as if his prayers had been answered the noise finally ceased. _Hallelujah_. Tom’s breathing steadied unaware it had become shallow as if to avoid being caught listening. He tapped at the keys on his phone to celebrate the news with Harrison.

_Tom: They finally stopped fucking_

_Harrison: Yay_

_Harrison: thanks for waking me with these updates btw._

_Harrison: I wouldn’t have possibly slept a minute more without them._

_Tom: Alright dickhead, night_

_Harrison: 👍🏼👍🏼_

Harrison had found the whole situation far funnier than he did, his first reply to the gossip was far from supportive. ‘Ask if you can join in then mate. Isn’t your hand getting tired??😂😂😂’ Tom felt his lack of reply spoke thousands.

He walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge. Footsteps could be heard descending the stairs and then against the checkerboard tiles of the hallway. Curiosity getting the better of Tom he walked over to his door and moved the peephole tab to the side. Visibility wasn’t all that great, hoping a quick clean would do the trick he swiped his thumb over the circular glass.

A man wearing a suit was facing the stairs and doing his best to rearrange his tie back to a presentable state. Tom squinted harder hoping to get a clear view of his face. The mystery man blew a kiss up the stairs and turned to the front door. And with a few stiff pushes he got it open and left without a word. Tom being unsatisfied he pressed his face further against the door hoping to catch a glimpse of the figure on the stairs but no avail. Tom made his way to his bedroom none the wiser and prayed he didn’t sleep through his alarm.

Wake me up when the dark circles have gone.

It had been nearly two weeks since that night, he tried to convince himself he wasn’t actively keeping count. However, the mystery of 2b was playing on his mind and going by what Mrs. Jenkins from 1c said, everyone else’s too. She had said the moving van had turned up out of the blue on a Tuesday afternoon and nothing had been seen or heard since. _Lucky her._

Tom nodded along in conversation adding polite comments here and there. Unfortunately talk of the weather and bin collection dates didn’t hold his attention as it wandered to the stairs that led to the second floor. He liked Mrs. Jenkins, honest, she had lived there for years (since the dawn of time to hear her speak about it). She was also an excuse to loiter around in the hallway to get a peak of his rowdy neighbour, but Mrs. Jenkins didn’t need to know that.

Harrison had thankfully come to his rescue with a phone call before she could rope him into watching Emmerdale with her, which he _swore _never again, it was practically death by bourbon biscuit.

“Oi oi. Fancy the pub for a bit?” Harrison asked. Top Gear would have to wait. “Yeah, go on then. I’ll start making my way,” Tom replied as if it had taken persuasion.

“Nice one, catch you in a bit.” Tom grabbed his denim jacket out of his flat before closing his door.

Their local happened to be a Wetherspoon, it was renowned for sticky floors, brawls and 2 for £12 on cocktail pitchers. Cheap and cheerful as they say. The boys were sat in a booth close to the window which had a perfect view of the football being projected on a large screen. Harrison took a gulp of his pint before clapping his hands together. “So, any more escapades with the sex pest upstairs?” He joked raising his brow expectantly. Tom rolled his eyes.

“What? Shut up Haz it’s not funny-” “Oh come on Tom lighten up, man. You’ve been such a downer since-”

“Oh for fuck sake, don’t bring her up now I’m really not in the mood. You asked me here for a drink not a fucking intervention. Christ.” Tom’s outburst caused Harrison to raise his hands in surrender.

“I know that mate. It’s just that- you don’t seem yourself and I don’t want you getting lost in whatever this is,” Harrison reassured as he referred to all of Tom.

Tom took a swig of his pint and wiped the froth of his top lip. “All of this” he pointed his face and circling “Is doing just fine.” He turned to face the screen above.

“I just miss it. I admit, I don’t like being on my own. I like having a someone,” Tom confessed.

“I, however, could not think of anything worse.” Harrison also turned to the football with a somewhat proud smirk on his face. “Yeah, I think all of the girls from South-West London know that,” Tom joked with a grin.

“Well 2b might not know that yet.” Harrison turned back to Tom. Harrison was only joking, he knew that, but it irked him none the less. “I wonder what she looks like because we already know what she sounds like.”

“How’d you know she’s a she?” Tom questioned.

“You heard her, you tell me.”

Tom looked away momentarily losing himself in the memories of the melody. Granted it had been a while, but the sound of a woman’s whines in bed were unforgettable, especially when you’re the cause of them.

“I can’t even remember. Everything was all muffled.” Tom lied not to risking looking at him.

“Right. I’m getting a Jägerbombs,” Harrison announced as he slapped his hand down on the table. Before Tom could even protest he had jogged down off to the bar. He just shook his head. Harrison was right he had been a bore recently, maybe this is just what he needed to kick-start the old Tom. The Tom that didn’t spend weekends watching Top Gear re-runs in his pants and listened in on couples having sex. Wow, he really did need this. Grabbing hold of his pint he downed the remaining half as Harrison appeared with more shots than they both could handle. “Now that’s more like it mate,” he spurred on giving Toms shoulder a squeeze and a shake.

On the walk home, scratch that, the stumble home he and Harrison had said goodbye at the station around the corner as he had a ‘late night tinder date’ awaiting apparently. They said their drunken emotional goodbyes and continued their separate ways. Tom walked, hands in pockets, down the street which illuminated orange from the street lamps. He saw the townhouse at the end of the street with one single lit window. It wasn’t until Tom was practically outside the building he realised it was directly above his own. The sudden halt caused his elevated feeling to decline and the spinning to start.

Tom placed both hands on the wall in front of the flats, keeping his head down to refrain from being sick from the motion. He tried to clear his mind. It felt like he was face down on a bouncy castle and people were still bouncing around him preventing him getting up. Tom looked up and watched the shadows that danced inside.

His head shot back down at the sound of the front door opening. It was him again. The suit man. Tom stood up slowly not trusting himself with any fast movements just yet. He watched as the suit skipped down the steps with an obvious spring in his Italian loafers. Tom hoped he’d just walk past and leave his drunkard self to himself, but _noooo_ he just had to be a nice guy too.

“You okay, mate?” 

_Prick._

“Yep.” Again could he really trust himself with words more than one syllable?

“Right.” The suit replied. “Take care, mate.” Tom didn’t answer.

_I’m not your fucking mate._

Everything hurt from his head, his bones and even his skin. Hangovers were invented to make you question your existence. Tom felt like his own worst enemy at this point. He grabbed the pint of lukewarm water on his bedside and gulped it down like he’d been spitting feathers all night. Placing it back on the table he wriggled further into the covers shielding him from any sign of daylight. Tom pulled his phone from under his pillow and sent Harrison a text ‘you alive??’. Right about now he hated himself for many reasons, but the main one being that he didn’t buy a pizza last night to finish cold for breakfast.

**Knock-Knock**

Tom sat up in bed waiting for the next sequence of knocking to see if he was hearing things.

**Knock-Knock-_Knock_**

Definitely Toms door. He quickly grabbed a pair of grey joggers and jumped into them, answering the door in briefs was ballsy, quite literally. Tom finally shuffled to the door secretly wishing whoever was at the door had now gone. He took the security latch off to reveal the sleep-thief was in fact gone. Thank god. Tom began closing the door-

“Oh, so you are home I see!” _Fuck_. “I just moved in upstairs, I’m 2b.”

Tom edged forward into the hallway to find the unfamiliar voice. And there you were, halfway up the stairs, mid-step. This was Sod’s Law at its finest. Why would you pick today of all days to reveal yourself? While he was going through what felt like the worst hangover of his life (and a mild quarter life crisis).

“Y-yeah? Can I help?” Tom questioned. Those were words right?

“I took a parcel in for you and I’ll be working till late so I thought I’d bring it down beforehand,” you explained smiling at his obvious hazy state. You strolled back down the stairs and Tom met you halfway.

“Thank you.” Tom prayed you couldn’t smell the booze on him from the night before. Seeing you here like this made all the mystery and sleepless nights worthwhile. Tom felt like a spare part realising you were stood there waiting for him to take the box. “T-thanks. I owe you one,” he promised taking it out of your hands. You nodded along with his statement smirking at his jitteriness.

“Sure, I scratch your back, you scratch mine right?” you laughed winking at him.

_God, yes please._

Lost for words he turned and placed the box outside his door. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he turned back to face you. You, however, looked calm, collected and comfy in what consisted of a plain white t-shirt and pair of pale pink shorts. Killer legs. Fuck. Sake._ Get. It. together._ Vulnerability crept up his spine as he stood shirtless under you gaze causing him to fold his arms. Tom couldn’t help notice your eyes quickly dip down to his chest and then back to his face.

_Please say that wasn’t a reflex. Please. _Tom silently thanked his Pure Gym membership.

“Well, you have your parcel, so I better,” you clicked your tongue and pointed upstairs before walking back up the steps on your tip toes. _Shit._

“Oh, er, yeah. Sure. Like you said I’ll always take stuff in for you, if you need me too.” Tom also shuffled back putting even more distance between them, nearly tumbling over the damn box in the process. World please just swallow him whole and put him out his misery already.

You turned back and giggled at the commotion, which happened to be his new favourite sound. “I work nights so I probably won’t be cashing my favour in any time soon, but thanks 1a,” you hinted waiting for him to correct you.

“It’s Tom.”

“Y/n.” _Y/n._

You looked at him from the top of the stairs and gave an innocent wave before heading back into your flat. Tom grabbed the box and dropped it inside his living room, still stunned he typed out on his phone.

_Tom: I just met 2b_

Sending it in excitement he put both hands above his head and let out a puff of air and smiled. Of course she worked nights that explained why she was never around. His smile sunk realising that spontaneous encounters would be slim with different work schedules. Thankfully a text alert dragged him back to reality.

_Harrison: about time🙊_

_Harrison: what’s the score /10??_

Tom rolled his eyes. Typical lad grading system in full force and as far as he was concerned you were far from typical. He was torn between being truthful and showing just the right amount of interest without seeming too eager. The last thing he needed was Harrison ripping him a new one over his ‘new girlfriend’. He decided to just leave Harrison’s imagination to run wild and take a shower.


	2. needy

One month. It had been one whole month since their meeting on the stairs. It had also been one month since the last X-rated disturbance which Tom was hoping had something to do with their encounter. _Here’s to wishful thinking_. He was currently sat at his desk trying pull original beat loops and melodies from thin air. Creating compositions required such attentiveness it allowed Tom to escape everything, everything bar you. 

He had tried every which way to run into you but they were failed missions so far, and the lack of contact was becoming frustrating as it only made you more appealing. Since their interaction he had found himself walking past the building alarmingly slow in hopes to catch a glimpse of you from your window. It was borderline stalking and definitely creepy. After his dawdling got a few distasteful glances he decided to stop doing that. 

Harrison advised being a snake in the grass wasn’t exactly the way to a girls heart and agreed to scheme up a ‘foolproof’ idea over a game of Fifa. _“So, we know she works nights, which I’m guessing is shift work as you said there is no specific time she leaves, right?”_ Harrison questioned. “Right,” Tom confirmed eye glued to the screen.

_“Well, what else is she bound to do? I mean do you have tenant meetings? Don’t you take the bins out?_” Tom raised his eyebrows “Yes! Yes recycling on a Thursday and big bin every other,” Tom eagerly responded. _“Hey presto. You should offer to take her bins out or something and then you can say ‘and yes that is a euphemism’,”_ Harrison snickered in Tom’s headset. “I’m not playing with you anymore,” Tom threatened. _“Shut up you big bab-GOAAAAAAAAALL.”_

Wednesday evening rolled round and if luck would have it (or it was British weather doing it’s usual thing) heavy rain was clattering against the windows. This would usually irritate Tom to no end as it meant the five-a-side football he played on Wednesday nights would be cancelled. Yet, today this worked very much in his favour as now not only would he be saving Y/n messing about with the bins but he was also shielding her from harsh weathers. _How heroic of him._

Tom not wanting her to assume there was any ulterior motives he decided to offer his services to Mrs. Jenkins. Mrs. J accepted his offer in a heartbeat, but not before pinching his right cheek and tucking a Werther’s Original sweet into his pocket. Exiting the building Tom braced himself clutching his jacket tight to his chest and made his way to the communal garden. 

_Oh for fuck sake_. Each of the bins had been labelled with their individual Flat numbers and 2b was nowhere in sight. It was usually the first bin he recognised as everyone else had opted for black bin stickers, not Y/n, hers was labelled in neon pink. Tom huffed and grabbed his and 1c’s bin handles dragging them around the building. And there it was, bin 2b, neatly placed curb side and patiently awaiting collection. He dumped the bins beside it and headed back inside wet to the bone just adding to his mood.

And then there was plan number two ‘The Fire Alarm’. Which was a good idea for all of two seconds. Turns out after a heated discussion with Harrison and a few other mates down the pub ‘plan two’ may or may not have involved illegally tampering with fire safety equipment. Which of course was a big no no and apparently out of the question. 

Tom spun himself in his computer chair finally giving up on work. He always assumed emotions and situations like this were designed to inspire creations and ideas, not dampen them. He stretched his arms above him letting out a satisfied groan and stood up to go grab his mail. Tom walked out into the hall and over to the cluster mailboxes hoping to find a distraction of some kind. He flicked through the copious amount of takeaway flyers, that was until he landed on the holy grail. 

A letter for his fixation. It must have been placed into his postbox by mistake and now he was left with two options, the first being simply post the letter into her box or the second and more favourable being using this to his advantage. The answer was obvious as this was probably the only break the universe had given him recently. Tom decided he would wait until after lunch to ensure you’d recuperated from you night shift, although it wasn’t all that hard to admit he was tempted by the idea of seeing you in your pyjamas again.

Yeah, he wasn’t waiting. Tom quickly threw the leaflets in the bin by the door and walked over to the stairs. The confidence he had when his foot hit the first step quickly declined as he ascended the stairs. Her door was white like every other in the building, but unlike the rest you had a single red lipstick kiss an inch under the brass 2b.

** _Click._ **

_What the hell- Oh no_. The door began to open as if in slow motion and it suddenly dawned on him there was no turning back or door to hide behind. Your eyes instantly met Tom’s and widened in fright.

“Oh my gosh. You scared me!” You shouted at him and raised a hand to your heart as if to stop it jumping out of your chest. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Tom reassured moving back slightly.

“Really, are you sure about that because I’m sure you’ve just taken years off my life,” you squinted at him in jest. Tom smiled back at you forgetting why he came to speak to you in the first place.

“I have a letter,” he announced. You raised your eyebrows and waited for him to explain. “For you. Well, not from me to you, but whoever to you, but it ended up my mailbox.” Tom rambled on as an uncomfortable warmth spread from his head to his toe. He wasn’t sure if it was because of your gaze or hearing the reason behind his visit aloud and just how far-fetched it was. “I thought I’d just bring it up, just in case you didn’t check again for a while.” _Why was he **still** talking?_

“Thank you,” you stated simply and took the letter out of his hand. “But I hope you don’t think this makes us even.”

“What- Oh right, yeah the parcel thing. I completely agree.” Tom nodded. He was so grateful you were able to make light of the awkward situation. “Anyway you were obviously leaving so, I’ll let you on your way.”

“Yeah, just popping out to meet a couple friends for Sunday lunch actually.” 

“Very jealous. I assumed you’d be heading to work or something.”

“Oh no, I don’t work Sundays. It’s one of the nights I have off, which is perfect for me as I adore Sundays,” you leaned against your door fame. _Noted._

Tom didn’t want to push his luck or give any more opportunity to embarrass himself and decided to say his goodbyes.

“Right well, I’ll let you go.” He walked backwards heading to the stairs. “Have a nice time, and enjoy your Sunday I guess.” 

“Thank you and thanks again for the letter,” you smiled and lock your door.

Tom returned it jogging back down the stairs and back to his flat so he could overanalyse and critique the entire interaction all night. It felt like a secondary school crush, the butterflies, the over-thinking, it was all very childish on his part.

“Hey, Tom.” You called out before he shut the door and instantly pulled it wide again. “I just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of having a bbq soon. There isn’t an official date yet, but I promised I’d have some friends over for a little ‘house-warming thing’. So, yeah, I’d like you to come too if you’re free that is?” 

“I’m free,” Tom confirmed. _Damn it, sound more eager next time._ “I mean I’m sure I will be but I’ll let you know for sure when you have a date I guess.”

“Cool. I’ve already mentioned it to a couple other neighbours just to pre-warn them.” Tom’s stomach dropped realising you’d invited the building and not him specifically. “Anyway, I better get a move on, so I’ll see you later.” You backed away and gave him another cute wave.

“Yeah, sure. Bye!” Tom shouted back as you ran out the front door. He slammed his door shut in a huff and face planted his settee.

It was around eleven in the evening when Y/n got back from her Sunday lunch which had clearly turned into Sunday drinks from the racket outside. The front door swung open and slammed against the door stopper. It caused the walls of the hallway to shake and was followed by bouts laughter and lip smacking. Tom instantly jumped up to investigate without being noticed, from the peephole he could see Y/n along with a male friend canoodling up against the wall opposite.

It was the classic car crash scenario you don’t want to see it but you just can’t seem to look away. Was he hurt? Yes, but Tom wasn’t naive, you owed him nothing. It was the jealousy that turned his stomach the most. He wanted it to be him, that guy, he wanted to be the one to press her up against the wall and leave soft kisses along her neck. 

Yet, he was merely the friendly, slightly weird, neighbour. He watched as their lips never detached shuffling back up the stairs giggling and stumbling. Tom wanted to punch something, this tension he felt was usually remedied by the gym or long a run, but he was obviously a sucker for punishment and decided to listen to the events unfold above.

The guy must have not been as good in bed as suit guy judging from the lack of excitement, Tom wondered if you was thinking the same right now. He was laying in bed refusing to stay up another night listening to you reach climax just for you to smile and wave at him the next day. Although, they weren’t as loud he could still make out your suggestive murmurs. It was hard to listen whilst being this hard. Tom reached down to rearrange himself to ease the constriction, well that’s what he told himself, but honestly he was taking pleasure in the contact.

He couldn’t do the whole one night stand thing sober. It was hard to be that open with someone knowing it wouldn’t lead to anything or mean anything the moment you rolled over without an ounce of liquor. Tom sat up and grabbed his phone opening up a new message and scrolled through his contacts. He caught sight of her name and hovered over it for a second before tapping quickly as if he were detonating a bomb and awaiting the blow. 

Now what was he going to say? ‘Hi, you broke my heart last year and you’re the only person I feel comfortable having a one night stand with. I’m incredibly horny, so what time can you come over?’ Tom laughed to himself but the humour didn’t meet his face. He typed out a short but sweet _‘Hi, sorry if you’re not awake. How are you?’ _before quickly deleting it. Tom swept his fingers through his hair and growled in frustration. He gave in and opened up an incognito window on his phone and searched ‘PornHub’ praying he wouldn’t replace their face with yours.

It was Friday night and Harrison had organised a pub crawl with Tom and few other mates for his ‘pre-birthday’ celebrations. Remember when your birthday was your birthday, well now apparently you have birthday months instead. Tom decided not to comment when he got the text with the details considering he could do with the drink. After catching Harrison up with the whole Y/n situation Tom decided to put it on the back burner for a while. It was consuming him in unhealthy ways and Harrison agreed.

They were all drinking spirits an hour in, in celebration of Harrison who was half cut already. He could tell by the way had his arm wrapped around Tom’s shoulders confessing his love for him, how much of a good friend he was and how much he deserves someone. The drunken rambling just went on and on but Tom knew it was all from a place of love. It had just gone past one am and they were on to the next club, the streets were wet and dreary but still crowded with scantily clad girls and boys in Ralph Lauren shirts.

He scanned the crowds of people as the group staggered across the road, his eyes caught sight of a few girls exiting Legs11 the popular strip club in town. They were all dressed to the nines but one in particular caught his eye as she was sporting a lilac bobbed wig. Her side profile was alarmingly familiar and he was unsure if he had drank one two many or if it was purely just his yearning, but he could have sworn it was Y/n. Tom turned to grab Harrison but he was too busy leading the tribe in front, he turned back to pastel haired girl, but she had gone so he rejoined the group.

He caught up to Harrison and tugged his jacket. “I think I just saw Y/n, she was with some friends,” Tom advised look behind him. Harrison stopped in his tracks causing the rest of the boys to pause. 

“Carry on lads, we’ll be in, in a sec,” Harrison nodded towards the door of the club. Tom watched as they all wandered inside hooting and hollering. “Tom, you need to give it up already. She’s obviously not interested or is just as bad as you at flirting which I doubt.” Harrison’s blunt words stung, but he wasn’t wrong, in fact he hit the nail on the head. 

“I know, I’ve probably been doing you head in,” Tom replied laughing quietly at himself.

“There’s no harm in trying to find someone Tom. You just want it to be her, but it’s obviously not meant to be, look don’t beat yourself up about it and just move on.” Harrison patted his shoulder and walked towards the entrance. “In fact I know someone I could set you up with-”

“No way. I’m not letting you set me up with someone.” Tom interrupted nipping Harrison’s suggestion in the bud.

“Hang on a second. She’s really nice, plus she’s like a 9/10.” Tom rolled his eyes in amusement knowing Harrison just wanted to help, in his own sort of way.

By the end of the night they had consumed questionable amounts of alcohol, danced badly to bad music and paid for an overpriced taxi home. More surprisingly Tom had actually agreed to meet the girl Harrison had mentioned. The next morning, Tom would have more than likely changed his mind and cancelled, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Harrison had text her there and then once Tom had agreed. 

So, fast forward to the following Thursday night and there he was getting ready for this date (only to confess to this girl that he in fact he was crushing on someone else, she didn’t really need to know the details). A small percentage of him actually hoped the date went well and was the start of something new, well at least the possibility of _something_.

Tom was thankful it wasn’t a blind date and Harrison had shown photos of her to him and vice versa. It put him at ease knowing she must find him somewhat attractive to go ahead with the date to begin with. Tom gave himself a once over in the bathroom mirror, he wore jeans and a burgundy polo assuming a shirt would have been overkill. They had agreed on somewhere local for food and didn’t really mention the possibility of going somewhere after. She had also suggested they meet outside the train station which he had preferred. Tom tweaked his hair quickly and grabbed the keys off the side table before exiting.

“Hey!” a voice called out. Tom looked over his shoulder giving the door handle a final pull. “Oh hi, Y/n,” Tom replied.

“Well don’t you look dapper,” you complimented shuffling shopping bags between hands. “Going anywhere nice?”

Tom’s throat suddenly went dry and became stuck with what to say. Panicking over the awkward pause he confessed before looking down. “A date. I have a date.” He couldn’t exactly lie to you, and he was trying to take what Harrison had said on board, if something was going to happen between you both, it would, date or no date. It wasn’t like he was going to sign a marriage certificate.

He looked up to meet you gaze again to see your reaction. If only for a second he was positive he saw your smile falter before it was back to being brighter than ever. “That’s great,” you commented plainly. Another awkward pause.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess I should let you go this time. H-have fun.”

“Right. I’ll see you later.” Tom smiled and headed towards the front door passing you on the way. He instantly felt guilt when the cool air hit him, which was stupid because there wasn’t any wrong in this. He was allowed to date. It was just that waver of your smile and cute stutter just gave him hope. _Fuck_.

The date went surprisingly well. He did try, he tried to be charming and conversational which he hoped hadn’t come across as forced. She was lovely, smart and very beautiful. It was so hard to fault the girl which was irritating as he wanted a reason other than you not to see her again. It was almost as annoying as even trying to pick a fault in this faultless girl to begin with. You were accountable for this. If he hadn’t seen you before he left, none of this would have entered his mind or so he told himself. 

By the end of the date she admitted to wanting to see him again and she awaited his reply. Tom was unsure of where to go from there as they stood back outside the station. He wanted to confess that, that probably wouldn’t happen as he was too busy obsessing over his neighbour who he was sure had loud sex just to spite him. However, he felt “Yeah, sure.” had a better ring to it. She seemed pleased with his answer and they exchanged numbers.

The sun had set by the time he reached home, he couldn’t wait to pass out and sleep away his worries. Once again his eyes wandered to your window above, unlike the times before he actually saw you. You were sat against the window reading from what he could make out. As if you’d sensed his stare you looked down to the front of the building, Tom thought about looking away or hiding, but he wanted you to see him. You grinned which was instantly returned. Tom waved up to you before heading inside. It was selfish and probably untrue, but he had hoped you’d been awaiting his return, or was at least happy to see him return home alone and practically yours for the taking. 


End file.
